


Syndexioi

by Sheffield



Series: Mithras [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:54:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7486989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheffield/pseuds/Sheffield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Observes, but he does not see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Syndexioi

**Author's Note:**

> Turns out there was another episode in my "John is Mithras" story after all. Sorry I missed a couple of prompts but the picture day did my head in - turns out I can write to a prompt but I can't *choose* a prompt!

“Let me warn you right now that I am very crabby this morning, and that Himself has been driving me crazy. Also, the scar on my ribs itches like crazy and makes me want to claw my own skin off. But if you want to take the risk, well, have a seat.”

Mycroft had arranged the private room in the extremely non-NHS private clinic in which John was recuperating. He had also arranged the armed guards who had expelled Sherlock from the building, taken him back to Baker Street in the boot of an unmarked car and set Mrs Hudson to watch him while he ate “at least 500 calories including something containing a vitamin” as per John’s written prescription handed to her. So Mycroft smiled gently and sat down, carefully moving his tongue around inside his mouth and wondering whether he would be able to speak.

“I’m sorry: good afternoon Mycroft. Thanks for coming to see me. And thanks for making sure your idiot brother is out of my hair for half an hour.”  
“My bull-headed brother,” Mycroft said carefully.  
“Ah. That? Now?”

Mycroft said carefully “I would… welcome the chance to discuss the events that led us here.”

John looked sharply at him and, just for a moment, instead of a seriously injured doctor with a healing punctured lung, broken ribs and a broken arm, Mycroft saw instead the Power who had - somehow - killed Moriarty’s snipers and arranged for Moriarty himself to be… torn to pieces by a bull headed Sherlock, a lion-headed Lestrade and three maenads in the shape of Molly Hooper, Mrs Hudson and Mycroft’s own assistant Anthea.

John closed his eyes for a moment. “All right,” he said. “And, by the way, there are three other teams trying to surveil you as well as your own men with the long distance mike pointed at the window. All three of your men are fighting to get to the lav just now, by the way - shocking case of food poisoning: you will need a very strong-minded clean up team with gallons of disinfectant.”

Mycroft sighed: more clean up. Nevertheless: “I wish you would be a little more… reasonable. Inclusive. We have arrangements for these things.”  
John laughed. “Torchwood? UNIT? The IOC? The Asgard? The Watchers? Bloody Nick Fury? Please tell me you haven’t been trying to tip the wink to one of our doughty defenders of the Earth from all things weird and wonderful?”

Mycroft had endured an extremely painful conversation with someone from Torchwood only that afternoon, trying to use any of the verbal and non-verbal signs he had been trained in that would alert them that there was “alien intervention or other weirdness” as the (handwritten, in purple ink, in a very young Victoria’s own hand) manual had it. He had found himself unable not only to speak of his knowledge of John’s Secret Identity, but also to rap the appropriate code on the table, twitch the appropriate muscle or indeed breathe in morse. For a short while he had found himself unable to breathe at all, and had then heard himself concocting some ridiculous tale about glowing rabbits and rift energy that was going to tie up Torchwood’s resources for the rest of the month and get some people at Baskerville very very cross with him.

“I simply… question… my status as Observer of the Mysteries? Are there any duties attached to the role, for example? I would hate to give offence. But it seems rather… counterintuitive, shall we say? To require an observer, but require the observer to remain silent and incommunicative about his observations?”  
“I’m kind of ineffable mate. Look it up.”

Mycroft fell silent. Then he looked up and said, all businesslike and British government again, “Thank you for seeing me, John. I will leave you in peace. Unless you have any other - little tasks for me?”

John Watson, incognito god Mithras, said gently “couple of things. Thanks for arranging the food supplies. Never had better hospital grub in my life, to be honest.”  
“That… means a lot,” Mycroft said carefully.  
“I’d be grateful if you’d look in on Sherlock on your way home. Mrs Hudson can manage him for a couple of hours, but there’s nothing like a bit of brotherly rivalry to get him eating and he could do with a bit of feeding up, don’t you think?”  
“If I must.”  
“I think so, thanks. Don’t look so glum, Mycroft. Observing isn’t that hard a task: isn’t it what you Holmeses do for a living? But I’ll tell you one thing. Three days before you die your tongue will be loosened and you’ll be able to tell what you know to your chosen successor. Choose wisely.”

Mycroft looked appalled. “Is that a gift, or a punishment?”  
John winked and said carefully “yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #14: Rehabilitation/Recovery (And "syndexioi" is the term wikipedia tells me is used for Mithras' followers, meaning bound by a handshake/hand clasp)


End file.
